The Coast

On Saturday, we caught an early ferry and started our day with a visit to the coastal village of Positano. A beautiful little town with houses built right on top of each other, all clinging to the hillside, overlooking an incredible blue sea.

Oh goodie. More stairs. But hey! I've climbed the Duomo in Florence. I've climbed the tower in Pisa. You know, I didn't have an exercise program before this vacation. I kinda feel like I have one now. So up we go on the stairs. Finally...finally...we reach a street and begin to head down. A taxi passes us, heading farther up. What the hell... Positano is a tourist town. But more like Santa Fe is a tourist town. Lots of up-scale art, clothing, etc. Oh, there are still the little tourist shops, but they're really pretty.



Once we're back down on the beach, we head up the other side of the crevasse. On this side, there's a beautiful church, and there's a wedding going on. Of course, people are still poking their heads in and taking pictures. Kinda rude, but I guess if you're planning to get married on a Saturday in a tourist town, you probably should expect a few uninvited guests.



We shopped a bit, walked around and admired the beautiful view. A quick bite to eat and now it's time to head back to the marina. Already? Yep. We're catching a boat to Amalfi...just down the coast a bit more.



Amalfi used to be a powerful city before Italy united. It was an important trading center, as well as a place for artisan papermakers. In fact, some of the finest handmade paper in the world is still made in Amalfi. And let me tell you...it is gorgeous paper.



Amalfi is stacked with small houses on a dramatic ravine. The streets are small, darkish and full of closet-sized shops...that is, until you reach the piazza. St. Andrews Cathedral dominates the square and raises your eyebrows.

It's one pretty place. So pretty, we had to sit down and have a drink just to admire it. And, yeah, we climbed the steps.

And as the sun began to set later in day, its rays glinted brilliantly off the gold mosaic facade and made me wonder what would happen if we missed the last boat back to Napoli.

But we didn't. Damn it. We caught the last ferry back to our base in Naples and started the hated ritual of repacking. Time to go. One last indulgence...we watched "The Godfather" in Italian. That was a trip. (We've seen it so many times we knew what they were saying.)

Sunday morning we caught the train back to Rome and spent a wonderful day walking through the city with no agenda. We drank, we ate, we shopped (yeah, we had to buy an extra suitcase because apparently the Italian postal system can't be trusted...at least not in Naples). It was a wonderful last few hours.

And 36 hours later we landed in Dallas. I've been saying this all along...I'm very suggestible and always say I want to go back to live in the places we've visited. But I think I may be serious this time. It's Florence or bust.

Stay tuned for the link to the pictures on Shutterfly. I should get them done in a week or so. Yes. A week or so...we only took about 1200 pictures...it may take a while to sort through them, pick out the best ones and add a witty caption. Just hold your horses...I'll let you know.

Thanks for playing along. I hope you've enjoyed this blog as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Can't wait until the next trip!
Ciao
t

Ciao Bella

Okay. I admit it. I'm cheating. We're home, but I wanted to publish a final post. My Internet connection dried up the last two days of our vacation, and I really didn't have the ability or the opportunity to post...so, here it is.

On Friday we went to the National Archaeological Museum in Naples. The collection there is amazing. Lots of ancient busts, statues, parts of buildings, frescos, artifacts, etc. Two REALLY cool sections: one - the Farnese collection. Pope Paul III Farnese, who issued an edict that gave his family the right to excavate in order to obtain marble and stone (with an exclusive claim on all sculpture) for the construction and decoration of his main residence in Rome. Over time, the collection amassed an amazing catalogue of sculptures, paintings, gems, books and drawings; the second - frescos found, taken and restored from Pompeii.

The Farnese (pronounced Far-nay-say) collection includes things like Hercules, the Farnese Bull (an interesting story about a jealous wife who was dragged to death by a bull), a bust of Caracalla (same guy who built the huge baths in Rome) and much more. The frescos? Well, they sort of make Pompeii look like a pile of rocks.

The museum is huge...has to be to house the kind of art within its walls. Lots of walking, unairconditioned, and empty...there were only about 20 people in the place. Compared to places we've been recently...it was a nice reprieve. When we arrive, there's some girl trying to sell hour-long English-speaking tours for 60 euro. What??? Are you kidding me? No way. Not with 4 euro audio tours and 10 euro museum guide books (which we bought). She's all, "Well, you must know that there are no descriptions on the pieces, no background." Yeah. Right. No descriptions in a museum. Does she think all Americans are stupid? We managed just fine. Besides, I planned to spend much longer than an hour in this place.

So, back to the two highlights of the museum (actually there are several pretty cool things). The Farnese Bull. The "Mountain of Marble" (because its really, really, um...really big) represents the myth of the punishment of Dirce. Antiope, impregnated by Zeus and driven away by her father, Nycteur, gives birth to twins, Amphion and Zethus. While in exile, her uncle Lycos (king of Thebes) takes pity on her and allows her to come live with him and his wife, Dirce. Dirce is a real bitch. She' s jealous of Antiope's beauty and treats her like shit. Well, the twins have about enough of that and decide that they are going to avenge their mother's maltreatment. The naughty boys tie Dirce to the horns of a bull. The bull drags her away, tearing her body on the rocks. The moral here is if you're the jealous sort, you could get lucky and end up in a museum...but you might have to endure death by bull-dragging and being torn to shreds on the rocks. Gotta love mythology. The sculpture was found in fragments during the summer of 1545 in the courtyard of the Baths of Caracallas in Rome.

The most impressive stuff here, though, are the Pompeii, Herculaneum and Stabia frescos. Just like Tut's tomb, when Pompeii (and the other two) was excavated, its explorers pilfered its treasures. Many of the beautiful frescos were taken from the site and have landed in museums in Naples, London and New York. About 50 years ago, someone smart said, "Hey! Stop taking all the stuff! Pompeii will be just a pile of rocks if there's none of the art left." The ruins, thankfully, still benefit from some of their original mosaics, fountains and frescos. BUT for the best collection of the art, the museum in Naples is the place to go.

They take you into the collection in small groups at appointed times. You can't touch this stuff like you can when you're in Pompeii, but simply admiring it is enough. It's fabulous. The colors are vibrant. The subjects range from daily life to portraits to myths. Their condition ranges from rough and barely discernible to pristine and absolutely beautiful.

Addendum to Sorrento

Meant to tell you...

There are little shops all over Sorrento claiming to be factories of THE best limoncello in town.  And they are all willing to let you try samples...boy, are they willing.  And, guess what?  We were willing to oblige.  At one of our last stops, the owner of the shop (The Corner Shop) actually took some time to talk to us about how the limoncello was made and why it tastes different from different factories, considering that the recipe is supposedly the same.  He let us sample not only the limoncello, but also the meloncello (yum).  He was soooo nice that we decided to buy from him (his shipping rates were also on the cheaper side).  

Funny thing...when we asked if he shipped to the states, he waved a little black book in the air and said, "Oh yes...I have many orders in the states...mostly from New Jersey."  

Well, that sealed the deal for me.  If his limoncello is good enough for the mafia...it's good enough for me!

Since we woke up too late to catch the ferry to Positano/Amalfi, we'll save them for Saturday.  So, today, we're off to the museum (yes, I checked...it's open).  Apparently the museum in Naples is a great compliment to Pompeii...most of the original treasures they found among the ruins are in the museum.  I can't wait to see them!

Today's Italian lesson:  Una encore.  (Oona, en-core)  It's what you say when someone asks if you'd like another round of limoncello.

Ciao

Lovely Sorrento

Okay...how many of you have ever had limoncello?  How many of you would like to?  If so...Sorrento is the place you need to be.  

Today we took the ferry over to Sorrento.  It's not as dramatic as pulling into Capri, but it's still lovely.  There's a small portion of the town around the marina, but you have to climb the hill (or take the bus) up to the city center to find lovely Sorrento.  Little cafes, shops spilling out into the streets with porcelain dishes and liquor stores jammed with limoncello, wine and other refreshments dot the piazzas and the scent of lemon and orange trees wafts through the airy market.  Wow.  

We shopped, we ate, we tasted, we drank, we shipped...it was a perfect day.  Made even more perfect by the gelato fix we had right before heading back to Naples.  

Another thing I did before heading back...waded into the Mediterranean Sea.  It was warm, sticky, exotic.  I nearly lost a shoe, but I felt, if only for a moment, like wading in deeper, like getting lost, like missing the last boat to Naples, like I could learn to grow lemons and make limoncello.  It's dangerous, that sea.  Il mare mediterranea (eel mar-ay med-EE-ter-ahn-nee-a).  

Ciao!

If it's Wednesday, It must be Pompeii

We woke up early this morning to catch the train to Pompeii (about a 30 minute train ride for 1.40 euro)...we wanted to get there before it got too hot.  Naturally, we were the only ones with this bright idea.  Yeah...right.  The train was packed...and not air conditioned.  Oh well...as I said, it was a short ride.  

Actually, I would have put up with just about anything because Pompeii is incredible.  It's more than a museum and definitely more than an archeological discovery.  It's a very clear picture of a very bad day.  

First off, the ruins themselves are very well preserved...considering everything that happened.  And once you get your head around the fact that this was a thriving community that was snuffed out in a single day, you can really begin to get an idea of what their typical day was like.  Really very much like ours.

They walked the dog.  They went to the butcher and the baker.  The took a bath (okay, not quite like we do).  They went to grab a bite at the local McVesuvio's.  They went to Rooms-to-Blow and bought furniture and goodies for their beautiful homes and small apartments. They had parties and played music...and then they didn't anymore.

(My apologies for the lack of pictures, but I'm sort of at the mercy of my internet connection and can't really upload anything for the next day or two.  I'll catch up.  And of course, I'll do an album after we get back.)

Anyhoo...we didn't have a personal guide, we did the audio tour instead,  It was okay...I think I would have rather had a guide.  What we DID have was 3.5 of the most interesting hours I've ever spent.  

Some of the buildings are still in really good shape.  The paintings and frescos are very well preserved...and right out there where you can touch them.  I guess they figure if they survived Vesuvius, they'll survive a few million people touching them.  There's one house (the house of the small fountain) that has a beautiful mosiac fountain and rooms with many of the frescos still intact and vibrant...amazing.

What's chilling is that everytime you look northward, there's a really big mountain looming in the not so distant distance.  OOOoooooooo   goosebumps.  What's also chilling is the idiocy of some people...just dumping their waterbottles and cigarette butts and trash all over the place.  I really wanted to go and grab them by the elbow and ask them if they were raised by she-wolves.  Geeez.

After our tour of the ruins, we toured the bookshop and ate at the local restaurant (no McVesuvio's).  We headed back to Naples to relax for the evening.

Il Museo e chiuso

We really wanted to go to the National Archeological Museum, but they're closed...only one day a week...Tuesday...the day we wanted to go.  Oh, well.  So, instead, let's go to Sorrento.  Okay, but the next ferry doesn't leave for 2.5 hours.  Hmmm, thwarted again.  Well, we weren't planning to go to Capri, but there is a ferry leaving in about 20 minutes...let's do that!!  

And I'm so glad we did.  While overrun with tourists, it is absolutely beautiful.  I mean beautiful.  Just beautiful.  Too bad I don't have any pictures to show you now.  The camera's recharging, and we're about to head out to Pompeii this morning, so I'll get some of Capri posted later.  

We took a ferry to the island...about a 45 minute trip and were greeted by cruise ship groups with their little matching stickers, waiters hawking their restaurants and t-shirts blowing in the wind.  Ah...Capri.  Yeah, right.  So we took a taxi to Anacapri (there are two or three towns on this small island...Anacapri is at the top of the cliff).  Same t-shirt vendors, same restaurants, fewer people.  But what's worth the whole mess of it is the ancient chair lift that takes you one by one to the very top of the island.  From this vantage point, you can see down to the blue grotto, over to Sorrento and across the Bay of Naples.  Oh. My. God.  Breathtaking.  heartstopping, awe-inspiring.  Blue.  Blue. And more blue.

I'll put up some pictures, but I promise you will not get the full effect.  It's just too pretty.

On another note.  Things I've learned from Italian women:

Don't worry too much about your make-up, men will look at you anyway.

Don't worry too much about your hair, men will look at you anyway.

Don't worry too much about sweating, when you scoop up your hair to cool off your neck, men will look at you anyway.

Don't worry too much about not wearing designer clothes, men will look at you anyway.

Don't worry too much about your Mexican Muffins, men will look at you anyway.

Don't worry too much about growing older, men will look at you anyway.

Don't worry too much about anything, men will look at you anyway.

Italian women worry about whether they loved their family enough today; did the meal they prepared reach those who were hungry today; did they see enough beauty in the world today; and did they live enough life today.

Wow.  I've learned a lot from Italian women.

Today's Italian lesson:  T' amo (tee-ah-moe).  I love you.

Ciao!

Andiamo Napoli

We actually got to sleep in for a change this morning.  It’s amazing what an extra 45 minutes will do for you!  Today is a travel day.  We checked out of the hotel and are heading to the train station.  We’re catching the 10:50 train to Naples (about a three hour ride with a single stop in Rome) then taking a cab to our friends Doug and Silvana’s house.  An uneventful train ride (I got caught up on my blogging and Joe plugged into his iPod) gave way to the MADNESS!! that is the Naples train station.  Crazy, right?, but  crazy in an orchestrated sort of way.  I’ve never seen anything like it...and I’ve been in the women’s bathroom on quarter-beer night at a minor-league hockey game. 

We finally find the cab stand...someone had turned the sign around so it no longer faced the station; it now faced the McDonalds.  During our search, several lovely-looking gentlemen approached us (on foot) asking if we needed a cab, I managed just enough Italian to let them know that we were looking for a licensed, city-sanctioned cab.  We got one and were on our way.  As we left the zoo behind us, the crescent of the Bay of Naples invited us to look seaward and dream of sailboats and rich friends (too bad it’s only a dream).  I was suddenly awakened from my dream when I realized I was looking across the bay at the only mountain in the area.  Vesuvius.  Sleeping in the haze, showing no hint of the violence it wreaked August 25^th, 79 AD.  And here we are...almost to the day 1,930 years later.  Yikes!  I hope it sleeps for a little longer. 

Okay, two worst jobs on the planet: gift shop worker on the rim of Vesuvius or chair lift operator stationed at the peak. 

Seriously, though, it’s a pretty volcano...as volcanoes go.  I’m sure it used to be really symmetrical.

But enough.  Down from the peak(s) is water just as blue as...you know that blue and white china from Amsterdam?  The water is that color blue.  It’s almost the color of my car-blue.  It’s sapphire blue (with diamond waves).  It’s blue.  And it’s got little dots of white sailboats as far as you can see. 

Doug and Silvana live in a fairly posh neighborhood that used to be the Naples countryside.  The house they live in has been chopped into three levels of very nice living space...they live on the second level...looking out across the bay.

Silvana’s in Milan today, so Doug is playing host (he’s really good at it, too).  It’s hamburgers on the patio and a relaxing afternoon.  We’ll tour Naples tomorrow, courtesy of a friend of Doug’s, but for today...maybe the beach...it’s just down the stairs.  Although Doug did ask if we wanted to watch a little TV.  I simply pointed out the window towards the bay and the view and said, “What?  Are you kidding?” 

 

It’s My Birthday. Love Chianti. Got Some Vino.

I bought myself an incredible birthday present this year...a private tour through the Chianti countryside, complete with a handsome English-speaking, Italian guide in a Mercedes...life is good.  Oh, and Joe got to come too!  Francesco picked us up at the hotel, and we headed south out of town.  You know those postcards you always see of Tuscany (Toos-cahn-i)?  It looks just like that!  I saw at least a dozen of villas that would work just fine for me and Joe.

It was a beautiful day...a little cooler than in the city...nice.  We drove into the hills and with each turn, the scenery became more stunning.  Tall Cyprus trees standing like sentinels, guarding villas and farmhouses and vineyards.  There are only two things people in this region do: make wine and olive oil.  And enjoy life, I imagine.  

We stop at an abbey/church...all stone and tall trees.  A couple of cats napping on the driveway and a dog taunting the geese just past the gardens.  Ahhhh.

Next stop is the small town of Greve in Chianti.  There is a castle in the region, so we go there first.  Castles these days are actually comprised of small apartments and homes...like a condo complex, but in an ancient castle.

As we walk along the cobblestone path between numbered doors, we can smell the beginnings of Sunday lunch and hear the sounds of daily life filtering out of the windows above.  It’s almost a fairy tale.  We make our way down into the town and to the market square (which is actually a triangle – easier to protect than a square).  Francesco takes us to the butcher, il macellaio (mah-chell-ah-yo), usually the most powerful and respected man in ancient villages.  I thought it was because he had big knives.  Turns out it’s because he usually had some schooling, participated in commerce outside the castle or city walls (to trade or bargain for meat), and, yeah, had a big knife.  This particular butcher also sold olive oil, wine and other goodies.  Of course, Joe and I start shopping...until Francesco tells us that this butcher has a larger shop off the plaza...would we like to go to that one...we can taste some wine, there.  Well, duh!!

As we cross the marketplace, we come across a large statue.  It’s Verrazano.  An explorer from Greve who was the first European to explore the area around New York City and the Hudson River.  Perhaps you’ve heard of the Verrazano Bridge?  That big one in NYC over New York Bay between Brooklyn and Staten Island?  Same guy.  Joe paid homage.

The larger butcher shop was apparently the place to be.  We tasted.  We shopped.  We shipped.  Francesco got a parking ticket.  Bummer.

From Greve we went to a winery.  Not to your typical Napa Valley winery, or even the small wineries in Texas...this was a man’s house.  Leandro Alessi.  Actually, his son runs the business now, but he is still the wine master.  He makes several, from a rich and wonderful Chianti Classico, to a Merlot, to a Cab to a couple of whites, a grappa, an aperitif...and yeah, we tasted them all.  And of course we bought some.  He told us how he got started, that he’s more concerned about his product then worldwide distribution.  He told us about some of the awards his wine has won and about a wine critic whose nose and palette are insured for two million dollars who happens to really like Alessi wines.  You go, Leandro! 

After the tasting and the buying, we walked across the courtyard to his cellar and saw the wines in production.  The whole yard was filled with rosemary and lavender (although it had mostly gone to seed).  I wonder if I can get a job pasting labels on bottles? 

 Time for lunch.  Francesco got us a table at a wonderful restaurant along the road somewhere.  We had a delicious lunch and drank even more, including a local handcrafted beer (you know how we feel about handcrafted beers!!).  It was soooo good.  Imagine that!  (Let me clarify...for all you MADD mothers...Joe and I drank...Francesco sipped...he was driving, after all!)

When lunch was over, we continued through a few small towns, did some walking and more shopping in Radda in Chianti (they always add the in Chianti...like you don’t know where you are).  We stopped on the side of the road outside of Radda and Francesco jumped out and brought us a bunch of grapes he picked from a nearby vine.  They were small, dark and sweet...just about ready for harvest....delicious!

It was getting close to the end of our day, but we had one more place to go before returning to our hotel.  Francesco took us to Piazza di Michelangelo.  It’s on the other side of the river, up from the Pitti palace.  It’s a little bit up in the hills (a high-end residential area...sort of like Beverly Hills), but overlooks the river, all of Venice and the towns farther up in the hills.  It’s where many people turn out every evening to watch the sunset.  Outstanding! 

It was our last night in Florence, and we had one more thing to do...find the warthog.  E la!  Prego!

 

Italian lesson for today: Il vino era squisito! (eel vino era squee-zee-toe)  The wine was delicious!

Tomorrow: Napoli!  Ciao

A Pisa (To Pisa)

Florence is a beautiful city.  Its art and architecture, the food, the people, the beautiful countryside and scenery, the shopping, the food, the art, the scenery...oh, sorry.  I’m just saying: Florence is a sparkling gem, alive, dancing with fire, passion and beauty.  It’s the one you set your eyes on when passing a jewelry store window.  It’s the one you stop for  and smudge the glass with your finger, trying to get others to look at it.  I’m thinking it’s the one we’re moving to!

And as such, I’m sure I’ll miss it, even for this one day.  But off to Pisa we go.  We were going to try to do Pisa in the morning and then take the train to Siena and then back to Florence, but it was just going to be too much.  Besides, my calves were still a little achy from the Duomo climb.

We walked from our hotel to the train station (about a five minute walk) and figured out how to work the ticket machines.  You can choose from about six different languages, English included, so if you can work an ATM, this is easy.  We had one false start and then, prego!  We’ve got it.  Around here, the trains run like Southwest Airlines used to run between Dallas, Austin and Houston...about every fifteen minutes.  We easily caught the next train, found the track and boarded. 

It’s a short ride, even with several stops.  The people watching is phenomenal, as is the scenery passing outside.  Arriving in Pisa, I was a little confused.  I guess I thought we’d be able to see the leaning tower from just about everywhere...sort of like it would be if the leaning tower were in Vegas...frankly, I’m a little surprised it isn’t! 

Anyway, when we exited the train station, I totally expected to look around and go, “Oh! there it is!”  But no, finding it was going to be like a splendid treasure hunt. 

We found a city diagram and mapped out our course.  Basically, it was: follow everybody else.  Pisa is sort of a crappy little town, with one extraordinary destination...what’s weird is that the Campo dei Miracoli (Field of Miracles) is not in the center of town, but on the far outskirts, on the other side of the river and the opposite side of town from the station.  It’s quite a hike, through some winding and not so attractive streets, with not much to look at.  Once you reach the river, though, the streets open up a bit.  There is a beautiful little gothic church right at the entrance to the river bridge and fantastic botanical gardens that go for blocks and blocks as you follow the yellow signs with the picture of the tower and arrows directing you onward.

Then, with almost no warning, you turn a corner and are presented with quite a spectacle.  Although they take up most of your field of view, and are each beautiful in their own right, the baptistery, cemetery and church somehow melt into the background.  I tilted my head back (leaving my jaw on my chest), and exclaimed, “She leans!!!,” as if I were the first to notice it.  You know...you see pictures, you read about it, you hear others telling you about it, but I’ll be damned; the tower is leaning.  A lot.  Seriously.  And up close and personal it is just bizarre.

Now, once you get your head around the fact that there’s a giant building in front of you that’s tilting at about eight degrees, you begin to notice a few other things.  One, it’s beautiful.   The marble is white, nearly pristine.  The other buildings, (the aforementioned, church, baptistery and cemetery) also are in beautiful white and green marble, just a little more worn.  They obviously take their cue from the Duomo in Florence, just not as vibrant...or maybe they were in need of some restoration???  In any case, they are a matched set.  The backdrop to these extraordinary buildings is the ancient city wall and the brilliant green lawns, which set them off even more.

All around are tourists...thousands of them.  About half of them have cameras in their hands, the other half have their hands in the air, posing for that, “I’m holding up the tower” picture that will end up on grandma’s mousepad.  It’s really pretty funny...I mean usually mimes have white-face makeup on. 

Remember Go Big or Go Home?  Well, it’s tower-climbing time.  There are only 300 steps in the circular staircase...hell, we did more than that in the Duomo.  Let’s go!  They only let 36 people go up at one time.  We have a reservation/ticket for 3:40 pm and it’s only just after 1:00, so we walk around a bit and find a small café for lunch.  Delicious.  A little shopping and it’s time.  You have to check your bags and bulky items (at no cost, and the guy wouldn’t take a tip, either) before going up...I guess they don’t want anyone getting any bright ideas to pretend they’re Galileo and drop stuff off the top to see how fast it  falls.  You can take a camera, though.

Okay, so when they started building the tower, it began to lean almost immediately.  You can see in the second and third levels, how they were trying to correct it architecturally...the columns on the leaning side are just a little taller than the columns on the non-leaning side.  Ultimately, I think they just accepted that the tower was going to lean and went back to the original plans to complete it.  Over the years, there have been several attempts to straighten it, and for now, they’ve stabilized it, lean and all. 

Show of hands, here...anyone ever go to Six Flags and go into Casa Magnetica?  It’s this crazy little house in the Spanish section of the park.  The whole thing slants and you have to hold on to the railing while marveling at why fruit rolls up hill. Stepping inside the tower door, I felt like I’d just stepped into Casa Magnetica, without the fruit.

The marble staircase is not steep (oh, thank God) and is the only thing inside the tower, but the stairs are worn and wavy from the footfalls of a million people a year for the last 500 years...you have to really watch your step.  There’s also no hand railing and lots of hands have passed over the walls (where’s that Purell?).  From time to time, you’ll pass a window on the way up and can rest in a little niche if you want (I always want!).  

We finally step out onto the bell tower balcony.  It’s not the top, yet, but you can go outside on the skinny, and I mean SKINNY little platform and walk the circumference.  There’s no way in hell that we’d ever be able to do something like this in America...there was no real railing, There’s one more level of tiny little steep steps (still worn and wavy and with a handrail) before you get to the top. 

So now we’re standing (well, I’m standing...Joe’s a little freaky with heights, so he’s sort of creeping) on top of a tower that’s leaning, the breeze is whipping around and the railing is barely chest high.  No net.  I’M KING OF THE WORLD!!! 

The view is amazing, the Apennine Mountains to east, the coast somewhere off to the west, the ground a little closer on one side than on the other.  God, please let this tower remain standing for at least the next 15 minutes, or until I’m back down on the good earth.  It is truly a Field of Miracles. 

Today’s Italian lesson: Mi gira la testa (mee jee-rah la tay-sta)  I’m dizzy.

More shopping (Joe and I must be 14 year-old girls at heart...we LOVE to shop!).  Finally, it was time to go back to the station and catch the train to Florence.  We decided to take a cab instead of walk; we were hot and tired, there was a taxi stand right in front of us.  We got to the station, bought tickets to Florence and began walking through the station to find our platform.  Now, you have to remember that Europe is a place with not so much regard for public rules (traffic, drinking, pets, etc.), but the last place I expected to see a pile of steamy dog shit was in the train station in an underground walkway.  But I saw it.  It’s just too bad Joe didn’t.. 

We washed it off the best we could with the little bit of bottled water I had left and a Kleenex...really missing those fountains in Rome!!  We laughed the whole way to Florence...fortunately in an air conditioned, nearly empty train car.  

Ciao, Bella!

Firenza

Okay, so our hotel here is what you might call "quaint." I'm sure about 30 years ago it was very upscale...which would be appropriate...it's right across the street from Prada and on one of the most fashionable streets in the city: Gucci, Versace, Pucci, Armani, Tiffany and Bulgari are just steps from it's front door. HOWEVER, in 2009, the two person elevator that only goes up to the second floor - where reception is - and not all the way up to the fourth floor - where our room is - is a little concerning. Equally concerning is the air conditioning unit struggling to keep a room smaller than our bedroom back in Dallas cool. And forget about having anything but a sauna in the bathroom. The only time it's cool is about 5am. Having said all that, the hotel is very accessible, service is very friendly and helpful, and the price...very reasonable.


We checked in and headed out to find the Duomo...the symbol of Florence, its real name is the Santa Maria del Fiori (St. Mary of the Flowers). You'd recognize it:

What's weird, is that you walk through this labyrinth of tiny medieval streets, then, all of a sudden, you're thrust out onto a plaza and this is right in front of you. It's so beautiful, it stood me still for a minute or two. The marble is so white, so pink and so green. The architecture and the relationship between the baptistry, the bell tower and the church is like a chinese puzzle. It's overwhelming. I just stood there slack-jawed, buggy-eyed wondering to myself (and outloud) how? How? How does someone design and build something so incredibly beautiful, so ingenious and so iconic? How? First off, the baptistry dates back to the fourth century...making it one of Florence's oldest buildings. Its giant bronze chronicle man's life and path to paradise. The doors are amazing. The Dome is by Brunelleschi. It's wonderous because it was built in 1463...and was the largest of its time to be built without using scaffolding! The outside is six sided, the inside is round. What? There are two domes, one inside and one outside. The outer shell is supported by the thicker inner shell that acts as a platform for it. Bricks were set between marble ribs in a self-supporting herringbone pattern, a technique Burnelleschi copied from the Pantheon. The bell tower, or Campanile is shorter than the dome, but no less beautiful. And all the structures are covered in Tuscan marble. It's scary beautiful.



Now, you know that Joe and I love to travel. And we've always thought that if you're going to see the world...you need to see the world. Simply put: Go Big or Go Home.




So we climbed it. Yeah. See that little balcony at the top...just under that ball at the very top? Yeah, we climbed to that balcony. Three hundred and some-odd stairs. Holy Crap!

But totally worth it.












Then there's always some hilarious American:



Fail.

The next day we had reservations at the Academia. That's where Michelangelo's David is. I don't have any pictures to upload because they won't let you take any, but I'm sure you know who/what I'm talking about. The statue is beautiful. Huge. Impressive. It's one piece of marble, but the detail in the muscles and the veins is incredible. I never knew he was holding his slingshot behind him (this IS David of David and Goliath, after all), but it looks almost like he's about to dry himself off with a small towel. Personally, I'd like to dry him off.

After a stroll around the center city and a delicious lunch, we had reservations at the Uffizi, one of the best renaissance art collections in the world, in the former Medici residence (that rich family that once pretty much ruled Florence). Housed at the Uffizi, among other things, is Botticelli's Birth of Venus...it is achingly beautiful. Also at the Uffizi, Caravaggio's Bacchus, several da Vincis and an amazing collection of ancient Roman Imperial busts. Wow!

And behind a curtain where restoration was going on...guess what I saw... a warthog. The same one I've stuck my fingers in in Sydney and in Munich. I think what I saw was the cast...perhaps he is somewhere in the city...I'll have to find him.

Ciao ciao!

Off to Florence!

So, Thursday, (yeah, still behind), with a heavy heart and wonderful memories, we left Rome. I’m not worried, though...remember we tossed coins into Trevi...we’ll be back. (Just as soon as we find jobs and sell the house.)

Just like the ancients were thinking about roads, I’m sure their more contemporary counterparts were thinking about how to get around the country. Aside from the Metro in Paris, Italy’s mass transportation system is wonderful! It’s sooooo easy, on time, clean, cheap...all those good things. Except it goes on strike at any given moment. Fortunately we haven’t had that moment, yet.

We got to the station, found our train and went to the platform with no problem. We were a little concerned because ALL the travel books said you had to have a validated ticket for boarding. Our ticket was printed by a computer and didn’t fit in the validation machine. We couldn’t figure it out to save us. So? Do your worst...bring on the fine! Turns out we had a ticketless reservation...no problem. OUR problem was we were on the wrong platform. According to the permanent board of arrivals and departures, our train departed from Platform 8...the ever-changing, updated board (you know, the one that’s really big and goes, tttttthhhhhhhuuuuuuurrrrrrrrrr and all the trains and numbers change...if you have no idea what I’m talking about, you have GOT to get out more!), we were supposed to be on Platform 4. Oops! Only four minutes to go...

A little suspense music please, as we rush down the main thoroughfare...we made it, and we’re seated next to a couple from Atlanta on their honeymoon...very nice and making conversation with them made the time fly by. Hey! we're in Florence!

Before I get to our adventures in Florence, I just want to take a minute and talk about the food here. I have one word, and one word only to describe the infinitesimal and gastronomical delights that are the backbone of Italy’s stomach: YUM.

I mean...it’s all fresh, it’s all local to the particular region, it’s all delicious, it’s all digestible, it’s all fabulous. I cannot even believe that I’ve seen three McDonalds here (and sorry, Cliff, no Starbucks, so far). Are you fucking kidding me?? Who in their ever-lovin’ right mind would choose a big mac over fresh pasta and the sweetest little tomatoes you’ve ever tasted, along with soft, delicious cheese, rich, robust coffee, to-die-for chocolate and Italy’s answer to crème bruleé, the panna cotta – look it up...you’ll never eat two all beef patties, special sauce, lettuce, cheese... again!

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again...and again...and again...YUM.

More on Florence tomorrow. Ciao!

The Roman Countryside

Roberto, our tour operator in California said, "So, after seeing all of Roma in three days, how about getting outside the city and see what's nearby?" Of course, I said, "Sure, okay! What's there to see?" Plenty!

There are several small medieval towns just south outside of Rome, including Castel Gandolfo, the Pope's summer home. Lots of ruins and, of course, the Appian Way. Our guide, Aldo, picked us up on Wednesday, and we headed out of town. Just off the Aventine Hill...where our hotel was...is the very beginning of the Appian Way. Three thousand years ago, Rome began building the first roads. And not just wagon trails...real roads. They were made of Layers of sand, pebbles, concrete, larger rocks and cobblestones...able to easily drain after a storm, and withstand tens of thousands of troups and animals, slaves and heavy loads (like building materials). They built 70,000 miles of roads...hence, All Roads Lead to Rome.

So we took the original path of the Appian Way out of town. Obviously it's been covered over in most places, but there's one section that's now pedestrian only that is the original the 3,000 year old road. And we stood on it.

Wow...something older than me! You can even see original chariot scuffs and marks in the road(the smaller broken stones). I don't think the cigarette butts are original, though...

In just a few minutes, we passed the ruins of the aqueduct,

(I love how you're just driving along, and, whoa...there's part of the aqueduct), a tomb to honor a dead daughter, ruins of an estate (complete with race track) and the largest catacombs in the world...closed, oh, well...there was another one down the road a bit. We did, in fact go to the San Sebastian catacombs...the oldest and most accessible to the public. Very impressive...and the temperature is much cooler three levels down! Now, I think scary movies are for the birds (although I especially hate THAT movie), but the catacombs were a little on the creepy side. The most amazing thing was that you could reach out and touch old marble headstones, markers and family sarcophaguses, etc. That stuff was at least 2,000 years old, and there I was touching the Roman relief of the seal stamped on it to commemorate the date. Wow!! I need some Purell.

We left the catacombs and began driving up into the hills. Through the small town of Marino, Frescati (yes, like the wine) and Rocca di Papa (Rock of the Pope). These little towns each had their own lore, their own local specialty and their own charm. Think of little towns with cute flower-covered squares, tiny fresh markets, friendly people, no tourists...then turn around...you're on the edge of a beautiful volcanic lake with the Pope's summer home in the distance. I started looking for the real estate office almost immediately. It's beautiful. C'he bella (kay bell-a).

So Aldo has friends in the region, and he knows where all the good stuff is. In a little town called Nemi, overlooking a second smaller lake, he took us to a bakery (all the bakers in the region still use the wood fired ovens...no electric ovens at all, so you smell the wood and the bread and the flowers and the...*sigh*

We first had what basically amounted to pizza crust, but a little crustier/saltier/savor-ier (I know, it’s not a word...just go with me here). The woman rolled up the large rectangle of 1/8 inch thick bread and sliced down through the crust with an resounding CRUNCH! Fabulous! Next door to that was Aldo’s favorite: wine biscuits. Like cookies, but definitely with a different taste. He bought a bagful and shared. Oh my! Finally, we went to the gelato shop. Nemi is known for their wild strawberries. Well, they’re not wild anymore, they got so popular, they now have to cultivate them, but they’re the same. About the size of a cinnamon red hot, these little strawberries pack a sweet and crisp pow! of flavor. Add them to cream gelato and top with whipped cream and strawberry jam and you’ve got yourself a dessert to die for. We tried two different samples. Both sweet. Both tart. Both Joe and Aldo were like dogs with a bone. I sat there, still working on my Pizza bread, my wine cookie AND these two treats...and we hadn’t even gotten to lunch yet.

We got back in the car and headed for Castel Gandolfo. Along the way we stopped in Aricci (Ah-reech-i) for the local favorite sandwich: Porchetta (pork-etta). And that’s exactly what it is. They stuff and roast a pig, then smother it in herbs and spices so it forms an amazing crust. Then they serve it on a local bread that soft and doughy inside, black and crusty on the outside. OMG! The funniest thing was...y’all know how fast Joe eats, right? well, Aldo wolfed his down even faster!! Then they started in on mine. There wasn’t even time to take a picture of it! Remember, we’d already loaded up on bread, cookies and gelato and strawberries. No way could I have eaten all that sandwich. But Joe and Aldo were not to be deterred. And we washed it all down with a bottle of local white wine. (Wine around Rome is 90 percent white; wine in Tuscany is 90 percent red.) Wine anywhere around me is 90 percent gone. Here's a pic of me and Aldo. (That's right, girls...he's 47, single, speaks English with an Italian accent, he's funny and loves life...Mamma Mia!!)

On to Castel Gandolfo, the Pope’s summer home. Vatican City is 44 hectares (however big a hectare is), Castel Gandolfo encompasses 166 hectares, and the Pope can roam around all he wants behind the walls. I asked Aldo if he (the Pope) ever snuck out without the Swiss Guards knowing so he could wander around in town. He could put on some cargo shorts, a Hawaiian shirt and some Crocs; strap a camera on and top it all off with a bucket hat...he could go anywhere! And he should! That little surrounding town is just beautiful.

It was time to go back to the city. We asked Aldo to drop us off back at the Vatican so we could send out our postcards and do some more shopping. It was our last night in Rome, so after getting cleaned up, we headed to La Terrazza – a restaurant on the top floor of a hotel at the top of the Spanish Steps. The view was spectacular; the sunset, unforgettable. Dinner wasn’t bad either!

Il Vaticano & St. Peter's

Okay, so I’m not catholic, but I might think about converting.. On Tuesday (yes, I know...I'm a couple of days behind), we had a Vatican tour that included the Sistine Chapel, the Basilica and the Vatican Museum. By the end of the day, I was ready to Hail Mary! What a beautiful place. I mean, not just that it’s a church and all, but the sheer genius of its designers and creators is unbelievable. We started off walking though the museums, which, I wasn’t really all that excited about. I mean, you’re there, why not just go to the Sistine Chapel and end the suspense, right? But the museum is wonderful, collected for a special purpose, full of amazing art and architecture and really beautiful. Take a fan if you come in the summer...it’s not all air conditioned. It really wasn’t that bad. You kind of forget that you’re sweating like a whore in church and begin to look at the wondrous collection of art...stuff from early on, political stuff, pagan stuff, roman and Greek stuff, renaissance stuff...it’s truly a fabulous collection...and not always a public collection...it was collected for the Church of Rome for a long time, before being available to the rest of us poor slobs. Does this outfit make me look hot? (And I mean that in a OMG it's 100 degrees and I'm standing in the middle of a million square miles of concrete kind of way-hot.)

So the museum tour, which includes amazing tapestries, as well as, Rafael’s apartments, several of the Borga rooms, etc. is worth the trip and, with a sort of crescendo, leads to the Sistine Chapel.

Remember when we went to New Zealand and saw Milford sound? I sort of made a conscious decision not to use the word “awesome” in daily speak. Well, I’m still not using it, because the Sistine Chapel is beyond words. However, “Shhhhh,” seemed to be the favorite word of the docents...I don’t understand what’s so hard about that word. They’d shush the crowd and within 2 or 3 seconds the roar would regain its strength. A couple of seconds later, a “Shussh” again. Repeated over and over for the 15 or so minutes we were there. I mean, come on. If the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel is destroyed over time from the humidity and breath of the 25,000 or so visitors each month, then, it’s gone. FOREVER. Idiots. Shut the hell up and look, just look, at the beautiful art surrounding you. Total idiots.

Like the Mona Lisa, the Chapel is much smaller than you expect. But St. Peter’s is the largest church in the world. It’s...it’s...it’s the King Kong of churches. St. Patrick’s in New York fits inside of it almost three times. There are letters around the base inside the dome that are seven feet high. There’s a mosaic of somebody, poised with a quill. The feather of the pen is as long as I am tall. I caught myself saying, “Jesus!” a couple of times. I bet the nuns catch themselves saying it, too! I know in this picture it really doesn't look that big, but click on it and look closely at how small all those people are up on the steps. Trust me on this one. It's a big church.

St. Peter’s square also is really big. Not sure why they call it a square... it’s more oval or key-shaped, I think. Bernini designed it and the coolest thing about it, other than the fountains pouring out spring water so you can fill up your water bottle at the Vatican (yes, Jon, I’m bringing you back some) is that there are something like 284 columns surrounding the space. They are four deep, offset from one another, so it looks more like a random forest, rather than rows. But there is one place on either side of the Egyptian obelisk that dominates the square's center where you can stand, and the columns line up perfectly...so that you only see the first one in the row on that side. It’s very, very cool, considering he didn't have a computer to figure it out for him.

We finally made our way back out to the Vatican wall, after some tourist-y shopping (Wally, I’m still looking for a pope mobile for you...although I think we were probably a little close to the Vatican to find something like that) and found a Pizzeria for lunch.

We had our first taste of Margherita pizza...you know: very thin crust, sauce, cheese and fresh basil. I may never make pizza at home again.

We hiked back toward Piazza Navona, where we finally gave in and caught a cab back to the hotel for a well deserved nap. Bottom line...Vatican City, its museums, its history and just the sense of the devout that comes from being there...awesome! And, no, the Pope wasn’t home.

Ah, Trevi!

The fountain that was made famous when Fellini directed blonde bombshell Anita Ekberg to provocatively plunge into it for her midnight bath in the movie La Dolce Vita (another movie worth the rental). I soooo wanted to recreate the scene, but...too many tourists. Maybe later. It is a beautiful fountain based on the backside of an office building. The funniest thing about it is that while it was being built, a scant 250 years ago by a student of Bernini's, a store owner across one of the side streets from the site was very critical about the design. “The horses are too big, the base is too small, Neptune doesn’t look like that, etc...” The designer, Salvi, in response, added a large orb atop a column...directly in the store owner’s view of the fountain. Basta! (Enough!) No more bitching!

Of course Joe and I both stood with our back to the fountain, holding a coin in our right hand and tossing it into the fountain over our left shoulder. An old custom guaranteeing your return to Italy and to Roma. In just one week, the fountain collects over 1,000€. It is collected on Monday mornings and donated to the Red Cross (or the Children’s Hospital...we can’t remember).


Finally we ended our tour at the Spanish Steps (also highlighted in Roman Holiday). A beautiful piazza so named for the Spanish Embassy just down the square. The steps number 128...we didn’t count them in person...we hadn’t even had lunch, yet. Maybe later. ;-)

The neighborhood surrounding the Spanish Steps is full of high-end stores and design houses. Hang on to your wallet and just take a look around: Valentino, Gucci, Fendi, Chanel, Versacel, Bulgari...and all those other names I don’t personally know. So, instead of window shopping and feeling poor, we decided to have some lunch and feel full.

We headed back a few blocks and found a little café on a side street. Salad, Panini and beer were the order of the day...just what we needed to work our way back to Trevi and some of the best gelato in town. Gelato is Italy’s ice cream...though it has almost no resemblance to our American ice cream. Gelato is richer, creamier, more flavorful, not as sticky (or maybe it’s just that you tend to eat it more quickly because you can’t believe there was ever anything on the planet that tastes THAT good). We both (Joe is such a little copy cat) ordered chocolate chip and “After-Eight” mint (yep, just like that little candy bar). Oh my. Thank you sir, may I have another?

We did a little shopping and suddenly found ourselves back at the Pantheon. There were fewer people around...maybe they were all in the gelato shops...so we took advantage of it and visited it again. Still just as beautiful.

A few blocks later we were back at Navona. Rome is huge. But the city center, cittá centro (chee-TA CHEN-tro) is really very compact and totally walkable...in the right shoes. Me? I have weird little toes...they turn sideways on my feet and are always vulnerable to blistering. I can feel that today will be no different. I know...too much information. Oh, well. I have a supply of band-aids and there seems to be a Farmacia (pharmacy) every few blocks. Unlike a couple of places we’ve visited, Rome is completely ready for tourists.

Anyway, if you’re an explorer, the center of Rome is fairly easy to traverse. However, if you start to include the Vatican over to the Borghese Gardens and then down to the Circus Maximus or the Baths of Caracalla...maybe a taxi’s not such a bad idea. And it really shouldn’t be more than 10€ from one side to the other.

So, at Navona. Did we talk about the piazza? It was built over an old stadium (everything in Rome was built over something...it’s the reason their subway system is not so extensive...every time they would start to dig a new tunnel, they’d discover something new and have to change the tunnel route). The piazza today is still in an oval shape, and there are ruins of the original gate at one end. On the plaza, there are two smaller fountains at either end, but the masterpiece in the center is Bernini’s Fontana dei Quattro Fiumi (Fountain of Four Rivers). Anyone who’s read Angels and Demons is madly nodding their head because they learned about this fountain in the book. The fountain depicts, in human and animal form, the four great rivers of the world known at the time: the Danube, the Platte, the Nile and the Ganges. The interesting thing about the statue representing the Nile, is that his head is covered...the beginning, or, head, of the Nile had not yet been discovered. Either that or he is just getting out of the fountain and is drying his hair.

The fountain was to be commissioned by the Pope, and he had narrowed it down to two sculptors: Bernini and his hated competitor and enemy, Borromini. Bernini was determined to get the commission, so he snuck into the Pope’s bedroom one night and placed a small silver replica of how he envisioned the fountain on the Pope’s pillow. So the Pope goes to bed...finds the model and says, well, only Bernini would have the balls to do sneak into my apartments and leave this for me. Well, he probably didn’t say that exactly, but because of it, the Pope awarded the commission to Bernini.

We sat down at a small café on the side of the piazza (in some shade) and ordered a bottle of wine and just relaxed for a bit. I love Rome! I mean, what were YOU doing on Monday afternoon?

We left Navona and somehow took a wrong turn. Instead of going back toward our hotel, we were headed in the other direction and found ourselves on the Bridge of Angels (all by Bernini...he was a busy guy), right in front of the Castel Sant’ Angelo. The Castel Sant’ Angelo has been many things...a fortress, Hadrian’s tomb (which it still is), a museum (also still is), a hiding place for the Pope (kind of like Cheney’s underground bunker) and a prison. What WE noticed about it was all the kiosks selling trinkets, food and beer. Paulaner beer. I guess...when in Rome!

Later, after a quick cab ride back to the hotel, we returned to Piazza Navona for a delicious meal. The piazza was packed with vendors, music, street performers and tourists. Still, it was a wonderful day and evening...but man are we tired!

Today’s Italian lesson: I don’t know where my hotel is, but I have a map. Non so dove la mia allbergo, ma ho una mappa (known so do-vay la mia al-bergo, mah o oona map-a).

Next up: all about the Vatican. Ciao for now.

(Oh, and apologies for any misspellings...I'm really not that lazy...spellcheck isn't working.)

It's been go, go, go since we got, got, got here!

And I know why!!! There is soooo much to see and do. It is absolutely incredible. Really.

So, as I left off from yesterday: we were at the coliseum... My favorite thing about the coliseum is that, you're driving along (well, we're not driving...no way would I drive in Rome) and you look up, and, oh, there it is...the coliseum. I mean, you don't have to go to a museum or drive out into the countryside...like you do to see Cadillac Ranch or the Eiffel Tower in Paris, Texas...it's just right there. Right in the middle of the city. Boom! It's just amazing.

Did you know that they have found a ton of stuff that tells them what people were doing while they were attending an event at the colisuem...they were eating and drinking stuff from vendors...we know this because excavators found chicken bones and cherry and peach pits (also why I'm not an archeologist...I'd be at some site, enjoying my lunch, spitting out cherry pits...someone would come along behind me, and the next thing I know the pits would be sealed in acrylic for the world to see). They were playing dice and betting games...we know this because...well...didn't you see the movie, Gladiator? We know they were hanging out in the restrooms chatting with each other, just like today, only there weren't dividers between the stalls...I know...waaaay too much information!

Our next stop was the Roman Forum...the ancient marketplace. All the temples, stores, public houses, etc. It's where you see all those massive columns and ruins just standing around:

Actually, it's very impressive. The weird thing is that you'd think this is where Julius Caesar was assassinated...but it's not. The Senate was moved to the forum after his death, because the first building burned down...it was in a place called Caesar's Forum (coincidence?). Today, that forum is also in ruins, but about 100 ferral cats call it home:

See the cat in the shade? Lower left hand corner? It's black and white.. You can click on the picture to make it bigger. Keep looking.

Anyway, the Roman Forum is massive. And not too long after it was built, all the emperors starting building their own forums. They're everywhere. I asked our guide, Gloria, if, when you're walking along the street or somewhere and you see a rock...how are you sure it's just a rock and not some long lost nose off of a priceless statue...I'm just sayin'.

After the forum, we went to what the locals call The Wedding Cake because of it's stacked arrangement and white marble designs. It's a monument ( really big one) to all the fallen soldiers, in Piazza Venezia. I am absolutely positive this is where Soldier Field got it's inspiration...Brett: homework assignment for you...

The Pantheon was our next stop. There's just nothing that can prepare you for it. It was about 93 degrees yesterday and very humid. We turned a corner and entered the square in front of the Pantheon...I had goosebumps. It's astounding (I'm starting to run out of words, here). So, we're really hot, and, as I was saying about the water in Rome: it comes up from a natural aquifer and is always. always. available from the fountains everywhere...it just never stops running. Cold, clean, delicious water. For free. I'm sure Evian hates Rome. So there's a fountain in front of the Pantheon. We stop and refill our bottles and douse our shoulders in the cold water. That, along with the goosebumps...it might as well have been about 66 degrees. Wonderful!!

And so is the Pantheon. It's a perfect globe...the dome is as round as it is tall inside...with a very famous oculous:

And two very tired, very happy travelers:

Well, it's midnight here, and I need a good night's sleep before we head out into the countryside tomorrow to see the castles of Rome. I'll start again later with our visit to Trevi Fountain and the Spanish Steps. Then there's that Vatican thing. Ciao for now!

Oh.

Today was our first full day in Roma. Oh. The best way I know how to put it is to say that it's 10 pounds of shit in a five pound bag. Oh. Today was all on foot. We started at St. Peter's in Chains...Michalangelo's Moses. Oh.

Michalangelo was most proud of this statue. I'm not sure why...personally I like the David and the Pieta, but he liked this one. So much so that he thought it was human and hit it with a hammer..."Why don't you talk to me?" I'm thinking Mickey was a little crazy. Anyway, today we started at St. Peters in Chains, continued to the Coliseum...you know that thing's huge? And they're still finding things that were a part of it. Just a last year or so, they were digging only 5 meters (sorry I can't convert...Americans were never any good at that...) and they found part of an equestrian statue. Of course, I couldn't resist making Joe do something that he really didn't want to do...or did he? It's when good tourists go bad...

So we did the coliseum, and so much more. I'll tell you about it tomorrow. Right now...I HAVE to go to sleep! I'm dying, here.

Just wanted to check in and post. I'll be back with more pictures and more stories.

And, I can't wait to tell you about the water. My hair is fluffy...yeah, I said fluffy...without the benefit of product. How is that possible? It's the water. More later...Ciao!

t

Ciao Roma!

Let me just say that Italian men are like Ferraris. Sleek, beautiful, desired by many... OMG, there was an entire tour group on our plane out of Chicago, and the male half were all...well...totally ogle-worthy! They all had that same sort of, oh, I don't know, "rico suave" attitude, although, not one of them was dressed head to toe in leather. They all had the same haircut, the same oversized sunglasses, the same slick tennis shoes and tight jeans, and the same (is Joe reading this?) butter brown abs, that showed when they stretched to reach their carry-on luggage in the overhead compartments. All I can say is thank God for American Airlines for charging that extra baggage fee for checked bags. I don't think I was blatant about it, heavens knows I kept a napkin close to my salivary glands, but...OMG. And the women weren't too shabby either...not that I noticed. They were just more subtle about it. Probably spent their entire lives rubbing themselves with olive oil and listening to Pavoratti, while walking around the orange grove in a see-through white cotton dre...oops. Maybe they weren't so subtle after all. Either that, or I have GOT to get a grip.

Anyhoo...we landed in Rome this morning, and were swept away by our driver, Walter. He brought us to our hotel (Sant' Anslemo). A beautiful small hotel in the middle of the Aventine Hills district. A very quiet, rich neighborhood, full of embassies, churches, and more beautiful people. The hotel, itself, is fairly old, but quaint (and there is an elevator...something I required). Our room on the second floor is wonderful. A gold and maroon palace for two with a complete bathroom, beautiful draperies and a window that overlooks an arbored patio...fantastico! But there was no time to take it all in. We needed a nap!! And fortunately, I'd scheduled our afternoon tour for 2:30...it was only 10:40...plenty of time.

I have to tell you...I don't even remember hitting the pillow. I don't know if I've gotten bigger over the years or if American has gone Lillipution. The seats we had were not only small leg-room-wise, but hip-wise, as well. Miserable. That, plus the girl in the row in front of me had waist-long blonde hair, and she just couldn't help flinging it over the top of the seat to get it out of her way...never mind that it was in my air, food and general annoyance space. If she'd flung it one more time...well, does the term snatch one bald-headed mean anything to you???

After our nap, we went downstairs and wandered around for a bit to find something to eat. I got to test my "Italian in ten minutes a day." Just as I suspected...it's way different in real life v. the cd. But we got two really good paninis and some diet coke, just about four blocks away from the hotel. We headed back and our driver and guide were waiting for us. Oh, by the way...it's freakin' hot in Rome. Not so much hot as humid...I'd still rather be here than in Dallas. So, let the sweatfest begin! We did three churches: St. Peter's outside the wall, (whoa, beautiful, full of lore and history), Santa Maria Maggiore (unbelieveably beautiful) and St. John's...the cathedral of Rome...along with the holy stairs. St. John's was facinating...there was a Pope (sorry I can't remember who) who loved alchemy and mystical happenings...he dreamed that he would die in Jerusalem. Well...he wasn't going to Jerusalem, so he was fine...all was well. Then, one day, he went to the Chapel of the something or other of Jerusalem...and, you guessed it...he died.

Everyone was going on about how he'd predicted this event. He was entombed in St. John's. Since then, everytime a Pope has been ill, it's said that the bones of Pope-what's-his-name rattle in his tomb and the whole tomb is wet, predicting the ill pope's death. How I love stories like that. So far so good...we didn't hear rattling and the tomb was as dry as my grandmother's heels. Benedict has nothing to worry about.

After the churches, we saw the Caracallas baths, the second largest baths ever built in Italy. The ruins are spectactular, and we learned that they continue to have performances there in the summer of all the lyric operas (Tosca, Aida, etc.) and even a performance of the three tenors (Pavorati, Domingo and Caruso during their final tour...what an incredible setting.

We saw the mouth of truth...did you ever see the movie Roman Holiday? Gregory Peck, Audrey Hepburn, Eddie Albert?? Go rent it...it's worth the price of admission. There's a scene where Gregory Peck (who, by the way, is my mother's favorite actor) shows Audrey this monument. It's a face with a sad mouth. You put your hand in the mouth and tell it your most secret wish. If you are a liar, you don't get your hand back. I have that same kind of relationship with vending machines. Anyway, the mouth used to be in a wall in the old port of Rome...now it's been cut from that space and resides in a church...the line was waaaay too long to stand in. True story.

Did I mention it was hot? Multo Caldo. Lesson for today: In response to a question about what the weather is like today: Che tempo fa oggi...literally, what does the weather make today...you might say (especially today)...fa caldo...it makes hot. Not that I'm complaining. I seem to recall on our last trip I was bitching about how effing cold it was. I like the heat. Really. No. Really.

One of the coolest (literally) things about Rome is that its water supply is fed from an underground aquifer or spring or something. And all the fountains spew all this fresh water. You can go up to any fountain with an empty water bottle and get your fill. It's cold (I mean really cold) and delicious. Amazing.

So after an amazing day of touring, we went back to the hotel, took a quick freshen up minute and headed out to the patio for a couple of glasses of wine whilst sitting underneath the orange trees and the date palms. Yeah...we're not coming back to Dallas.

We went around the corner for dinner and had a perfect cream tomato soup, another wonderful glass of wine, linguini and pesto and espresso. I couldn't see them, but behind us was a couple, obviously (except to me) speaking the queen's english. Frankly, they sounded like they should be ordering a highball. Thurston and Lovely were carrying on about George Bush, the war and who knows what...Joe will have to tell you, because, I admit it, I was giggling too much to really care. Enough wine. Back to the room to sleep. Tomorrow is a full day on foot to take in the citta vecchia (the old city).

I'm sooooo going to be able to sleep tonight, Lovey.

I still haven't vacuumed

But I have finished packing. This past week has just sucked! I mean, every night I had the best intentions, only to be thwarted at the gate. I had to work late. We had a birthday party to go to. I had errands to run to pick up some last minute items (like Italy doesn't have stores). I had a headache. There's a cowboy's game on. We had to finish watching the first season of MadMen. You name it. For some reason I just couldn't get to my list...and God knows I had a list. There are only two things left on it. Do a blog post and vacuum. I'm having a hell of a time getting to that vacuuming.

I know. Who vacuums before you go on vacation? I guess it's like making the bed in the morning. I do it for the burglars. Huh? I've always been afraid that if burglars came to the house, and they showed it on the news, my mother would be watching and think, "that house is a mess...and look, she didn't make her bed." Same as clean underwear mentality.

So when I finish this, out comes the Dyson.

I AM packed. And I did get it all in one bag and a carry-on. It's a big bag. A really big bag. It'll probably get one of those bright orange "heavy" tags on it. Thank heavens we'll be able to do laundry when we get to Naples, otherwise, I would have two really big bags. And I'd be bitchin' trying to roll them over the cobblestone back streets of Rome.

I think Joe made it all fit in one bag, too. Frankly, it's a miracle. We've been fielding calls all evening from friends and family wishing us a buon viaggio (good trip). I told Wally (Joe's dad) that, according to my friend Cindy, there's a gift shop just outside St. Peter's Basilica and the merchandise you buy there, you can have blessed by the Pope. I asked him what he wanted us to bring him that was blessed by the pope. His answer? A popemobile. Let me tell you...he is soooo getting a popemobile. Probably popemobile salt and pepper shakers. And they damn well better be on the table the next time we go to California. But if I can't find the salt and pepper shakers, there's always Pope on a rope...who doesn't want to shower with his holiness? Today's Italian lesson: Desidero inondare del papa (day-see-der-o in-own-dar-ray del pa-pa) I want to shower with the pope. I'm sooo goin' to hell. No, wait. I'm going to Rome!

I'll post as soon as I can! Ciao.